American Hockey
by clementineme
Summary: Alfred Jones is excited to be captain of his hockey team this year. His high hopes for the team only increase when a new goalie, Matthew Williams, comes into town. However, when the two new friends find themselves as something more, they find that this season will include more than hockey. CanadaxAmerica with mentions of FrUK. Warning for homophobic themes further into the story
1. Chapter 1

Alfred was excited for the season before it began. Last year, his team had gotten to their championships, and missed it by a hair. But that was then. He was confident they would win this time. Especially because Alfred would be captain.

He had bragged to all of his friends about it, although he had made sure to bug Arthur, his brother the most. Especially because Alfred loved talking to Arthur. Especially because Alfred's voice annoyed Arthur to no end.

"Dude! So guess what today is?" The brothers sat at their dining table, munching on cereal. Arthur sighed, putting down his newspaper.

"What, Alfred? What is today?" Annoyance dripped from the Brit's voice like syrup. While other, less experienced, little brothers would sulk off, Alfred didn't even flinch.

"It's hockey tryout day! I can't wait to see the new recruits! I know all of our best players left to college this year, but I'm sure we'll get a lot of good ones trying out. Anyways, if nobody's completely amazing, we'd need only fillers for five spots. It'd be nice to have a better goalie than Eddie, but a backup would be really good too," Arthur looked up from his food, rolled his eyes, and muttered one sarcastic word.

"Brilliant," Then the older brother returned to eating his food, as did Alfred. Some people were simply impossible to talk to.

Alfred jumped when the doorbell rung. With a slight groan, he left his bowl of cereal to answer the door. It was probably some idiot trying to sell them something. Nobody tended to buy from those people, Alfred sometimes wondered why they even bothered to come out sometimes. It was a waste of both parties time.

Still, it was rude not to open the door. He didn't have to invite the person inside or anything. And besides, saying no to the vendor would never take more than two seconds.

With a sigh, Alfred gripped the doorknob and pulled open his portal to the outside world. The boy standing outside held no magazines or makeup samples to sell. He wasn't dressed for it either. A red sweatshirt and pair of blue jeans hardly looked professional. Alfred grinned at the boy, although he was slightly confused as to the situation.

"Hey dude! Are you looking for someone?" The boy standing in the doorway, who, Alfred noticed, squeezed a teddy bear to his chest nervously, didn't seem sure of how to answer.

"Umm… W-well, I'm… I'm kinda… I'm n-new here and I j-just sort of g-got lost…. I-If it's no problem c-could you point me t-towards a certain address?" Alfred masked a frown. A new neighbor? The boy seemed just about the same age as Alfred, and he had an obvious Canadian accent. Canadians liked hockey, right? Maybe this kid would be trying out for the team… Although he did seem a bit soft spoken and shy for such a sport.

"Yeah, sure dude. Just give me your address," Before Alfred even finished speaking, the boy was furiously searching through his pocket for something or other. It looked difficult. With one hand always supporting his bear, the Canadian only had a single hand to search with.

"H-Here!" The boy finally pulled out a small piece of paper and thrust it at Alfred. It almost looked like some sort of name tag, in case the Canadian forgot who he was.

_Matthew Williams_

_Age 17_

_East Lock High School_

_332 Ninth Street_

If the boy -Matthew, Alfred presumed he was called- dropped this card anywhere, whoever found it could know basically all of his information. Alfred couldn't see how having something like this was a good idea. Well, unless he could hand it out to the cute girls he met.

"Dude, do you know what street you're on now?" Matthew shook his head. That was probably a part of the problem. If Matthew paid any attention to street signs, he would know how close to home he was.

"Well we're on Ninth Street now," Matthew's eyes went wide in realization. Now he looked everywhere for house numbers. "Better yet, this is 330 Ninth Street, your house is right next to mine. How in the world could you miss that?" Alfred even pointed to the neighboring house for the boy. It was shocking that someone like Matthew, who seemed smart enough, couldn't find his own house. Maybe streets worked differently in Canada…

"Hey, we go to the same school, so you can walk with me, in case you get lost again," Although Matthew looked slightly embarrassed, the boy nodded. He really didn't seem that talkative.

"Come back here when you're ready to go, okay dude?" Matthew nodded again, quietly thanking Alfred before he went back to his own house.

Alfred closed the door, heading back to his breakfast. He wouldn't have a lot of time now to eat and finish getting ready for school at this point.

With a short sigh, Alfred plopped down at the table to devour his cereal.

"What's that in your hand?" Before Alfred got into his third bight, Arthur was frowning at him. Alfred followed his brother's gaze to the his left hand, where he clenched a slip of paper.

Oh right, he had forgotten about the Canadian's nametag. Alfred supposed he would return it to the other boy when they walked to school… Or he might keep it. Maybe this information would come in handy one day.

"It's nothing! I gotta go make sure my bag is packed, see you later, Arthur!" Alfred's brother did no more than grunt and lean over his bowl again. Alfred was glad to know that Arthur wasn't watching when he slipped Matthew's information into his pocket.

With a sigh, Alfred pushed in his chair and went out to the separate garage. He let his gear air out here after practices and games. If he didn't do this, the equipment would still be wet and stinky by the time he was next on the ice. Nobody liked playing hockey in disgusting equipment like that.

For ease of use, he kept his own backpack in the same garage. He could pack up his bag and grab his backpack all in one place. It really did simplify things.

The same moment Alfred had both heavy bags over his back, he heard even footfalls heading towards his front door. Was it really time to go already?

Matthew was a little early, but it never hurt to have some extra time getting to school. Especially when someone like Alfred had to drop off his hockey bag in the locker rooms before classes began.

Alfred grinned, walking out behind the new kid. He had thought Matthew would realize Alfred was there, but the Matthew didn't acknowledge him. Alfred didn't see any harm in patting his new friend on the back, until the Canadian jumped and spun around, falling on the ground, still clutching that stuffed bear from earlier

"I'm so sorry! I-I didn't know you were there…" Alfred only grinned at Matthew, offering a thumbs up.

"Don't worry dude, there's nothing to apologize about. _You're _the one that fell after all," The boy shrugged and looked off to the side. Alfred decided to ignore it. "Anyway, we should really be going off to school now, you're going to need time to sign in with the office. And I really need to get this" Alfred nodded towards his hockey bag, "To the locker room,"

Matthew's eyes grew wide and a smile made its way onto his face. For the first time, Alfred realized how beautiful Matthew's eyes were. The wide orbs were unnaturally violet, but they were more than amazing. That, mixed with the twinkle that came from something Matthew seemed passionate about, made it difficult for Alfred to look away.

"Y-You… You're trying out for the hockey team?" Yup, Matthew was Canadian. Alfred knew it. The passion only proved Alfred's suspicions. All Canadians obviously loved hockey!

"Something like that," Alfred grinned, "I'm the captain this year, dude! Why? Are you a hockey fan?" Matthew shook his head and smiled even more brightly.

"Yeah! A-Actually, I'm trying out today. My mom is driving my gear up after school," He sighed slightly as if there were some sort of story behind that statement. Alfred finally pulled his gaze away from Matthew's beautiful eyes. He shouldn't be mentally praising another man for looks.

"Really? Why don't you just carry it up now like me? The school isn't so far away," Matthew looked down and blushed slightly.

"W-Well, i wanted to carry it, b-but Mom said she should… should drive it b-because goalie equipment c-can be difficult to carry…" Matthew shrugged, looking up at Alfred. "I hope it's okay… Is it a problem? I can go get it now…"

Alfred shook his head, grinning slightly. Now that he thought about it, Matthew acting like a goalie. He knew that they tended to be a little more quiet than most. The team's current goalie wasn't like that. Eddie blamed the team for goals let in, when most others would blame themselves.

"Na, dude! It's no problem! That's actually a really good idea. Arthur would never drive my stuff up, though," Alfred chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Who's Arthur?" Oh right, Matthew wouldn't know, would he?

"My brother," Although Alfred thought Matthew would nod and not say anything, his brow furrowed and he looked up in confusion.

"Couldn't… Couldn't you ask your mom or dad to bring it to school for you?" Alfred almost tripped over a stone on the ground. He had stopped paying attention to his surroundings when Matthew asked that question. The other boy probably thought that Alfred's sharp intake of breath was due to the near fall.

"No, I couldn't ask them…" Alfred bit his lip and inclined his head before continuing, "They're both… umm.. They died four years ago." Now it was Matthew's turn to miss a step.

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry! I really didn't know! I-I'm sorry! I didn't- I didn't mean anything by it! I just assumed-assumed that…" Matthew had stopped walking, and his hands covered his face. Alfred felt a little bad chuckling at the anxious boy.

"It's fine man, I get it! Artie's not really my brother, you know? He's actually my cousin. I have a younger cousin too. His name is Peter. Their mom got arrested for some shit, and their dad ran out on them, so they were sent them over here to live with us eight years ago. Arthur is my and Peter's legal guardian until my birthday next summer. It's really not that bad! Well… Except for dinners…" The boys had begun walking again.

"W-W-Why? What's… What's wrong with dinner?" Matthew seemed more hesitant to ask this time. Alfred hoped the entire parent situation make him even more awkward and shy. After all, Matthew seemed like a good friend to have. Alfred didn't want to be alienated by him. Not that Aliens were bad…

"Because sometimes…" Alfred leaned forward as if telling a horror story, "My older brother, Arthur Kirkland decides to cook dinner. Those poor, kind people are forced to eat his horrible British cooking. On those nights, it is said that you can hear the screams of Arthur's victims from miles away, and you can smell the disgusting, burnt scent of a scone, even in Antarctica,"

Matthew giggled almost like a girl would, gently and sweetly, like a song. Alfred felt extremely proud to get a laugh out of the quiet boy.

"It sounds like you're over exaggerating it…" Matthew's smile was much wider than it had been before at any point in this conversation. Alfred was glad to see him at ease.

"No! Just ask Peter, dude! Seriously, it's gross!" Matthew laughed again, and this time, Alfred felt like joining in, "Really, though, I'm not kidding. You eat that stuff and…" Alfred shook his head grimly, trailing off. Matthew looked away from Alfred, letting his gaze settle on the large building ahead of them.

"Is this… This is the school?" Alfred nodded and grinned at Matthew, whose eyes grew wide as he observed the heavy stone building in front of him.

"Yup, big right? Hey, you should go inside and get your schedule. This is your first day right?" Matthew nodded, looking around.

"We made sure to get here in time for hockey tryouts…" Alfred nodded.

"That's cool, dude! See you after school, okay?" Alfred watched Matthew walk up the many front stairs to their school.

For some reason, Alfred found himself wishing that Matthew was good enough to get a place on the team.


	2. Chapter 2

Near the middle of the year, every day of school tended to be the same as the last. Any student knew that. The middle of school was always when things seemed most pointless.

However, Alfred found he had a more difficult time waiting for each new class to begin. He was excited to see if he shared any periods with the Canadian boy from earlier, and he did not know why.

Alfred was popular enough, he always had friends to keep his company. Girls liked him, even though he already did have a girlfriend… Who he actually was not very fond of. Truth be told, he had never been romantically interested in anybody. But Greta was hot enough, and Alfred's friends had been bugging him about finding a date.

However, girls could hardly have mattered less to Alfred. All of school -the academic subjects, the many different people- it all led to hockey. That was the only thing Alfred truly looked forward to. That was his life. Although Alfred did play on teams outside of school, playing with and leading his friends was always most important to him.

So why was he looking forward towards seeing that Canadian almost as much? It simply did not make sense. Alfred knew his priorities. First there was hockey, as always. Hockey outranked everything. Then there was school, then Peter and Arthur... So it confused Alfred that he was almost looking more forward to seeing Matthew.

When it was lunchtime, and Alfred still had not crossed paths with the quiet boy, he had begun worrying that they would have no classes together at all, which would truly suck. With every passing moment, Alfred lost sight of more behind a swarm of high school bodies. It wasn't unusual for Alfred to be at the center of everything.

One of the plus sides of being popular -and there were quite a few- was that Alfred never had to struggle if he wanted to sit with friends in the cafeteria. He could chose any empty table and in five minutes, it would be full. However, Alfred could also save any seat, and taking it would be almost like social suicide. The seats Alfred Jones saved, nobody ever dared to take.

A packed lunch from home sitting on the table before him, Alfred lifted his legs to the seat on his left, crossing them comfortably as he waited for a certain blond-haired, violet-eyed, Canadian student.

Like a flock of hungry, somewhat insane, american eagles, Alfred's friends and colleagues flooded his lunch table, chatting as they stuffed sandwiches and other foods into their mouths.

Today, at the risk of flavor, Alfred had decided to eat healthily. His three hamburgers were all made with cheese -cheese was a vegetable, right?- and ketchup -a delicious fruit-. He had skipped out on his regular sesame buns in favor of some type of whole grain bread Peter had bought, to avoid Arthur's scones.

He bit into one, letting the hamburger juice dribble down his chin as he listened to his friends and waited for Matthew to join them.

After ten minutes and two hamburgers, Alfred decided that Matthew was taking far too long. '_If he won't come to me, I've just gotta go to him,' _He decided, nodding in determination, and wrapping up his last hamburger.

"See ya, guys!" He waved a hand in farewell and stood up, searching through the multiple heads of the multiple students at the multiple tables for one single Matthew Williams.

It took a minute longer than it should have to find the boy. Matthew was sitting with one other person in the very back of the lunch room. The loud, arrogant voice, white hair, and blood red eyes could belong to really only one person in the entire world. Gilbert Beilschmidt.

And Gilbert was nothing like Matthew at all, from what Alfred had seen. He wondered what those two were doing together. Why the hell was Gilbert talking to Matthew? Not that Alfred was jealous or anything- Nope! Alfred never got jealous because of little Canadian boys!- but he really wanted Gilbert to leave. Matthew was probably annoyed by his endless chatter anyways.

"Hey, dudes!" Uninvited, but not particularly caring, Alfred plopped himself down next to Matthew at the table, a silly grin on his face, "What's up?"

Gilbert's toothy smile greeted Alfred, and the strange, slightly creepy, ruby red eyes lit up. "Alfred! Have you come to zhe table of awesomeness to talk to zhe awesome me and mien awesome new friend!?" It took all the self control Alfred had to not roll his eyes.

"Of course, dude!" He answered energetically instead. Really, Alfred wanted to talk to Matthew, not Gilbert. Still, he couldn't just kick the albino out from the table he was at first. Alfred did have a reputation to protect, after all, and he definitely did NOT want to look like an asshole in front of the cute Canadian.

No, not cute. Alfred didn't think Matthew was cute. Not at all. Nope. Those wide violet eyes and that stray curl that bounced of the side of Matthew's head were in no way adorable. God, what was Alfred thinking? It was stupid to deny that Matthew was unattractive.

"Mien little birdy plays hockey!" Gilbert grinned again, bumping Matthew on the arm, "He's totally going to get onto the team, right?" For some reason, Alfred really didn't like the idea of Gilbert calling Matthew his 'birdy'. He smiled politely, growing less patient with the annoying German by the moment.

"That really depends on how he does, Gilbert," Alfred answered, his gaze shifting towards a slightly anxious looking Matthew, "But personally? I have really high hopes for this one," Alfred chuckled, patting Matthew on the back.

After that, the three drifted to another subject. Unfortunately, Alfred found out that Gilbert and Matthew had already compared schedules, and shared five classes with each other.

Alfred only had one class with Gilbert, but that meant there was a good chance he would be with Matthew as well. That class just happened to be gym, which made Alfred doubly excited to test Matthew's abilities.

"See you guys later!" Alfred grinned when the bell ring to dismiss the breaking students.

A goofy smile resided on his face, as it was obvious Matthew and Gilbert were hiding no secret feelings. Alfred went to fifth period History in a good mood.

Mr. Vargas, the teacher, let anybody sit wherever they wanted, and didn't care when students didn't pay attention. After all, it was their grades, not his. The girls were usually mesmerized by Mr. Vargas's good looks anyway, and the teacher was fun to listen to anyway.

Like any other teacher, Mr. Vargas had favorites. His two grandsons just happened to be the most annoying people in the class.

The Vargas brothers were about as different as two people could be. While Feliciano was innocent and sweet, Lovino was angry and… angry. Both were loud, and both were somewhat over emotional in their own way.

The hockey captain happened to be one of the first arrivals in the classroom. He chose to sit next to Elizabeta, a girl with long brown hair who claimed she was amazing at hockey.

It was probably one of Alfred's favorite classes. Especially when the new student came in.

The new Canadian student, that was. Meaning, the new Canadian student that Alfred had absolutely no attraction to. Right, none at all.

With a wave and a grin, Alfred beckoned the other boy to join him and Elizabeta at a nearby empty seat. "Matthew!" Alfred greeted him happily, "This is Elizabeta, she plays hockey as well, and Elizabeta, this is…" Alfred stopped speaking when he realized that the brown haired girl wasn't listening. She was absorbed in some sort of magazine.

Matthew smiled politely and offered a small wave as he took the seat, organizing his books, and placing two pencils at the top of his desk. "Hello, Alfred," Matthew nodded, glancing occasionally towards the front of the class, where Mr. Vargas seemed to be flirting with a couple school girls.

"Dude, can you actually believe that tryouts are in less than two hours? It's going to be so awesome! I've been brainstorming drills for weeks!" At this, Elizabeta lifted her face and closed her magazine, beaming at the two blond boys.

"You two better say your prayers, I'll be crushing you both tonight. You won't have two good legs to walk home on," She smirked at the visibly cowering Matthew, crossing her arms and leaning back in the seat, as though she owned the world. Alfred grinned at her confidence.

"Ah, well you can't hurt Matthew, dude! I don't like players who slash the goalies," Alfred joked. The bell had already rung, but Mr. Vargas didn't seem close to beginning the lesson, so the athletic blond boy ignored it.

"Oh, a goalie?" Elizabeta raised one eyebrow, a mischievous smirk appearing on her face, "Don't worry then! I won't hit you, none of the pucks will end up in front of you, they'll all go safely past,"

Matthew opened his mouth to say something, but before any cute Canadian squeeks could make their way out, a bold, accented voice bounced around the room.

"I'm sure you all remember learning about the Renaissance in seventh grade history class? Well, we'll just be reviewing that for the rest of this week, beginning with prominent figures during this time," It didn't take Alfred long to zone out, his memory wasn't bad, and he was confident in the subject already.

Subconsciously, he turned his head to watch the boy he had met just that morning scribbling notes on a lined sheet of paper. Alfred couldn't help but smile, he hadn't exactly expected anything else from Matthew Williams.

Sixth period gym came too soon, and Alfred changed into his gym clothes with only Matthew on his mind. The boy with the bright violet eyes and cute nervous personality seemed to be slowly killing him.

Whenever Alfred recalled him, which seemed to be constantly, the American felt his heart clench as though it were about to burst. And it felt… unhealthy, but for some reason, Alfred didn't much mind.

Matthew wasn't in the gym class, but Gilbert offered a type of refuge, constantly speaking so that Alfred didn't have to think much about the blond goalie.

Seventh period flew by in a rush, like it always did, and before Alfred knew it, he found himself strolling towards the rink, a few blocks away, his hockey bag over one shoulder, and his backpack over another.

Although he wasn't completely sure why, Alfred peered into each car window that passed, wondering if it could be Matthew's mother and his equipment.

None of them were.

Alfred, although he was surprised, was the first person in the locker room, but he sat back and waited for the rest of his to-be-team-mates to arrive, more excited than ever for the tryouts.

There wasn't a single doubt in Alfred's mind, this season was going to be good.


	3. Chapter 3

Alfred was not the first person on the ice. No, that would be a skater wearing a dark green jersey, with a long brown ponytail sticking out of her black helmet. Alfred quickly noticed that Elizabeta skated with more effort than that most people would use for warm ups. Her strides were purposeful and she stayed low and focused.

After stretching and skating a couple laps, Alfred located the coach and a couple of his college alumni. The large Russian man had worked with older students before he moved onto high schools, and many of his students loved working with the young hockey players.

"Alfred!" A woman in the team's uniform warm-ups, a black helmet, and a pair of skates waved to him from Coach Braginski's side. This woman had never played under the larger man, but she had been on the Ukrainian national women's hockey team. Katyusha Braginski basically carried her entire team. If everybody had been as skilled as the goalie, Ukraine could have sent their team to the olympics.

It was unfortunate that Katyusha had been forced to stop playing, but it had become difficult when she had begun suffering chest and back pains. However, the girl still had a strong shot, and she was an amazing goalie coach, constantly offering support and advice.

"How has your year been?" She asked cheerfully when Alfred had approached the group of coaches and helpers. He answered positively and loudly, as was usual for him, although his mind was more on hockey. Before the captain could ask Katyusha the same question, they were approached by Ivan, who smiled widely,

"Privyet, Alfred! Are you ready for the season? I'm going to let you run the drills this evening so that I can assess players. That sounds good, da?" Alfred nodded enthusiastically at the large man, who stood at least 4 inches taller than Alfred himself.

Alfred had heard Coach Braginski being described as cute by a couple girls before. While the man had a soft round face, bright eyes that looked violet in the right light, light platinum hair, and a body that much resembled that of a teddy bear, he was anything but adorable on the ice. In fact, the man was near terrifying. His quiet threats and cold demeanor belonged in a horror movie.

He was still a wonderful coach. Something about Ivan Braginski pushed the high school students to work harder than they ever had before. Alfred would willingly sweat and bleed for that team.

"I'm so excited, dude!" Alfred replied to his coach, a large grin on his face. The American had never been great at showing respect, and had always preferred to talk to his elders more like they were his friends, "And that sounds awesome! Should I start now?"

Ivan nodded, "Da. If they are not here, they're already late," With that, the head coach lifted the whistle hanging from a string around his neck to his face and released one long, sharp note. Within moments, all the skaters around the ice had congregated around the middle.

Alfred located Matthew geared up in his team Canada youth jersey with no name on it, a plain white goalie helmet, and a pair of silver and white itech leg pads with matching gloves. He looked very professional, Alfred thought, and there was something new in the shy boy's eyes. Alfred noticed that Matthew was not wearing his round glasses anymore.

"Privyet boys and girls!" Ivan smiled and offered a soft wave, "I'm Head Coach Braginski, that is Goalie Coach Katyusha, and this is Assistant Coach Laurinaitis," As Ivan introduced all the coaches, they gave small waves, "All of us will be working on assessing you today. Captain Alfred-" Said boy grinned widely and waved both hands widely, nearly falling backwards due to the sudden insane motions, "-will be running drills today. If you have any questions, ask him before you come to me,"

Then, Ivan nodded at the excited boy and Alfred started on drills, "Hey dudes! How're you all doing?" After a chorus of '_alright'_s and '_good'_s, Alfred continued, "Awesome guys! All of you better be ready to work your little butts off today! In the drills, show us two hundred percent of what you have. The only boundary is yourself; even if you lose I want to see you fight your hardest, understand?" A couple of nods and Alfred grinned. He felt like a superhero- intense and awesome.

"Alright then! You dudes ready? Goalies, there are five nets set up for you at the end of the ice, go on down there with Katyusha. As for the rest of you, who likes skating!?"

Full ice skating was never meant to be very difficult. For Alfred, it had always been more of a warm up. For other players, it was a way to see who had just begun learning how to skate and who had actual stamina. Alfred allowed himself twenty minutes out of the hour they had for skating drills, after which he was sure Ivan had crossed some names off the list. A couple of the kids could hardly make it across the ice without collapsing.

When they were done, Alfred divided the players by jersey color and sent them all off to smaller drills, two of which would be run by coaches while the rest were run by the players in it. This would give the coaches a good idea of who listened to instruction and who messed around.

Alfred had watched over a stick-handling station, which looked as if it was doing fine without his help. Halfway through the second group, Alfred left to go check on the goalies. They were still skating.

Dropping down, jumping up, shuffling to one side, skating backwards, Alfred had a difficult time following some of the goalies, and it looked like not all of them understood either. Most of them watched the others' movements before doing their own choppy version. Matthew, however, went through the motions with easy precision, his skates tearing through the ice with a dull grinding noise. Alfred loved that sound.

Katyusha was besides Alfred a couple moments after his arrival to the spot, "Hi Alfred," She smiled kindly, putting a hand on his shoulder, "Would you like to send some of the older players down here for shooting and screening? Only a couple, I'll send you some goalies in return." She smiled, and Alfred nodded.

"Sure, dude!" He pointed out three drills that included shooting, before grabbing Elizaveta, a named Raivis, and a tall senior boy named Matthias. Then he returned to Katyusha. She had already sent out a couple goalies, and currently only Matthew and a small freshman drinking from their water bottles as they took a small break.

Katyusha eagerly positioned Alfred in front of Matthew and Matthias in front of the smaller kid, explaining to everyone that this would be a screening drill. The two pre-positioned players would try to block the goalie's sight while Raivis and Elizaveta shot.

Alfred looked back to grin at his new friend, although Matthew refused to acknowledge him. The Canadian stayed focused on the shooter with a somewhat scary intensity. When Alfred turned around again, he faced a grinning brunette who seemed eager to prove herself.

Her first shot was quick; it went missed Alfred's hip by a couple inches. When the captain looked back, he was sure that the puck went in. But no, Matthew was in a butterfly position, and the round plastic disk was safely in his glove, which was clenched tightly so that Alfred was unable to hit it out.

Matthew dropped the puck in front of Alfred's stick. The American passed it to Elizaveta with a "Nice save," spoken to the goalie over his shoulder.

This time, Elizaveta moved back and forth and stick handled as she prepared to shoot. Alfred also, changed his approach slightly, looking back to make sure that he was blocking the goalie more efficiently. He readied a backhand shot or rebound for the Hungarian girl.

Just as Elizaveta raised her stick to shoot, and Alfred felt completely confident that it would be completely impossible for Matthew to get this shot that she was readying, something hooked around and pulled on Alfred's foot and he lost his balance. Just as Alfred landed, the puck sailed past. If he had been in place, Alfred would have efficiently tipped it in, but, on the ground, the American could only watch Matthew easily hit the puck away from the net with his stick.

"Got you down, Alfred?" Katyusha asked, as Alfred raised himself to his feet, "I'm surprised, you're usually careful about that stuff."

Alfred could barely reply, too busy blinking stupidly at the boy who was suddenly more aggressive than shy and quiet. The soft-spoken, apologetic Canadian had tripped him. Alfred grinned. If this kid missed a spot on the team, something was very wrong.

Some half hour later and Alfred was in the locker room undressing with his team. As it was, Matthew's bag was right besides Alfred's on the bench, and they talked to each other as they changed.

"I'm sorry… About tripping you earlier, you were in my way," Matthew spoke quietly and guiltily, Alfred could hardly keep back a laugh.

"Dude, don't apologize! That's totally what you're supposed to do. It's not like I'm unprotected or anything." He grinned and hit his chest protector for proof. Matthew was taking off his own chest protector, which came in only one piece that covered his entire torso and arms, but had multiple straps.

"Yeah, but still, I mean…" He shrugged, finally pulling the equipment off over his head. Now the Canadian was wearing a tight black, long sleeved shirt that outlined strong abs and pecs underneath.

Then, Matthew stripped that off as well. Alfred was suddenly talking to a half naked Canadian and _damn. _That timid boy could not have had any more than an ounce of fat on his body. Alfred was reminded that statues he had seen during a vacation in Greece years ago.

The boy was extremely toned, a six pack and pronounced muscles proved that, but at the same time, he managed to look slim and delicate. Alfred quickly looked away and untied his own skates, still watching Matthew from the corner of his eye.

In a moment, Matthew was wearing a white t-shirt with a plaid long-sleeved shirt overtop. Alfred sighed in both disappointment and relief and finished changing as quickly as he could.

Alfred felt so wrong. It was disgusting to use the locker room as an excuse to look at one of his teammate's bodies, wasn't it? But it had not been intentional or anything. Maybe Alfred just respected Matthew's resolve to work out so much as he obviously did.

The American was the first person in the room to finish changing, and when he did, he grinned at everybody in the cramped locker room, "Good job today guys! The roster will be posted in front of the gym by Wednesday and it'll tell you when the first practice is."

Alfred pulled his backpack over his shoulder, followed by the larger hockey bag and his sticks, but before he could walk out, a hand on his wrist stopped him.

Alfred was surprised to see Matthew looking awkward in his giant goalie pants without the leg pads. "Hey," The Canadian said timidly, "Do you mind if we walk to school together again tomorrow?" Alfred noted the way that Matthew chewed on his lip nervously. It was absolutely adorable.

"Yeah, dude, sure! You can grab me in the morning again. See you then." He waved when Matthew removed his hand, and left the locker room.

At home, Alfred went straight to his homework. Then he packed his lunch and made himself dinner, eating it with music blasting full-volume from his earphones. Then he cleaned his room. Then he cleaned his house. Anything to keep his mind off Matthew.

When Arthur returned home with Peter, the older Brit was worried about his health. Which was kind of insulting, even though Alfred was not usually the type to even shower willingly.

"Are you sure you're feeling well, Alfred?" Although he acted nice, Alfred knew that Arthur was teasing him. He wasn't the worried type. At least, not openly.

"Yes, Arthur," It was the third time in fifteen minutes Arthur had asked the same question. Alfred was currently making dinner for everybody, "I feel completely fine. You've already checked. I don't have a fever or anything." Alfred rolled his eyes, and stirred the soup. "Dinner's ready."

Peter was the first to sit at the table, excited to eat something not cooked by Arthur for once. Arthur was slower because he was annoyed at Peter's eagerness.

As the youngest boy went on about his day, Alfred could not stop himself from thinking about violet eyes veiled by round glasses and blonde hair topped by a single curl.

**Hey! So, I know not many people actually read this or anything, but I really need a beta reader, if any of you readers out there are available! Thanks to y'all for reading at all, though. Review and follow if you can, that always makes me happy :)**


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